


Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity

by smaragdbird



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Canon, Clubbing, Drugs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-02-01
Updated: 2011-02-01
Packaged: 2017-10-15 07:16:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,330
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/158386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smaragdbird/pseuds/smaragdbird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The war is over and Draco feels broken. In typical spoiled child behavior, he misbehaves by clubbing, drinking, and having random encounters with anyone who is willing. That is until he meets a dragon tamer who makes him feel whole again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Healing is a matter of time, but it is sometimes also a matter of opportunity

Excerpt from the Daily Prophet, Issue 150/07

 _….After the court rejected an appeal Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were punished with the Kiss of a Dementor last evening. Their son Draco Malfoy who was spared from a trail by the request of Harry Potter hasn’t been to the trial…._

 

________________________________________________

 

He drifted along through the mass of bodies around him. The music was deafening and he was drunk. Or high. Or possibly both. He couldn’t remember and it wasn’t like it mattered anyway. The world was spinning, swirling, slightly off of its axis as it should be for him.

Someone pressed up behind him, whispered words into his ear and tugged at his clothes. Draco followed them. The name, the face or even the gender didn’t matter. Hands and mouths and teeth and tongues distracted him from the pain of being alive, of being left, so who cared to whom they belonged?

Afterwards he was back in the crowd, looking for the next drink, the next body. Sweat and sex clung to his skin, making him undistinguishable from the masses. New hands grabbed him, new bodies pressed against his and new mouths slid over his for just a taste.

This was freedom.

"Want a drink, pretty?" Asked whoever was pressed against him. Draco agreed, threw the alcohol back as soon as the glass reached his fingers. Someone laughed and pulled at his clothes – he stumbled only to be caught by that person, or maybe someone else? Who cared.

 

________________________________________________

 

He woke up with a head that hurt worse than the worst hangover he had ever had. And he had had a lot.

"Here drink this." Not water but a potion. Draco recognised most parts of it instantly but some ingredients were off, foreign.

His head cleared nearly immediately and he noticed that he wasn’t home. The other person in the room was a stocky, muscular redhead with freckles, scars and tattoos all over his skin. Draco had never seen him before.

"What the fuck happened?"

"Someone spiked your drink. I would have brought you home but no one in that club had even the slightest idea of your name so instead I brought you here."

"And where is ‘here’?" Draco asked impatiently.

"Diagon Alley." The redhead answered: "Weasley’s Wizardly Wizard tricks."

"Should’ve known." Draco muttered.

"Should have known what?"

"That you’re a Weasley. The redheaded wizard-thing is a dead giveaway for your family."

The Weasley laughed: “Well, I saw that you’re a Slytherin. The snake tattoo is a dead giveaway too.” Most muggles in the club attributed the moving of the snake over his skin to a trick, if they noticed it at all.

"I’m Charlie." He held out his hand and Draco took it reluctantly:"Draco."

"Are there no last names in your family?"

"In my family everyone is blond so we don’t bother with them." Draco’s tone was mordant but Charlie still grinned.

"How about breakfast?" Charlie asked.

"I should go home."

"Sure. I’m in the country for a few weeks, so if you need to be rescued again, send me an owl." Charlie said cheerfully.

"If you only knew." Draco muttered after he had closed the door behind him.

 

________________________________________________

 

“Hey.” Charlie gripped Draco’s arm to stop him from disappearing within the masses: “I didn’t think you would come here again after what happened last night.”

“Nothing happened.” Draco replied sharply and brushed Charlie’s hand from his arm. He slipped between the crowd of bodies. Here he was as nameless and as faceless as he wanted to be.

Charlie found him again at the bar.

“You’re doing this every night?” He asked innocently.

“Doing what?” Snapped Draco whose patience was wearing thin. He definitely hadn’t come here to talk and certainly not with a Weasley.

“This.” Charlie waved his hand around: “It seems a little dull.”

“You’re here as well.”

“Yeah, but I live in a remote Rumanian reservation for the most of the year. What’s your excuse?”

“My parents are dead and I’m stalked by a guy who seems to think I need to be saved two nights in a row.” Draco deadpanned.

“The last part certainly is a reason for excessive drinking and fucking every night.” Charlie grinned.

“You think you’re funny, aren’t you?” Draco rolled his eyes.

“Runs in my family.” Charlie stretched his arms which gave Draco the opportunity to see that Charlie didn’t have tan lines around his arms or his waist.

“Like what you see?” Charlie smirked after he caught Draco staring.

“You’re not my type.” Draco told him dismissively.

“Because you know my name?”

“Because you know mine.”

“Who’s trying to be funny now?” Charlie asked but he looked like he was trying not to smile.

“Come on, I have a better idea what to do with the night.”

“You’re welcome to leave me alone.”

“Where’s the fun in doing things alone? Come on.” Charlie tugged at his arm: “Just tonight and if you don’t like it then I promise I will leave you alone.”

Draco gave him a sceptical look. Charlie laughed and held up his hands: “Weasley promise.”

Draco gave in.

 

________________________________________________

 

This night they ate take out on top of the London Eye.

The next night they walked invisible over the roof of the Parliament.

The night after that they were having a midnight picnic in some park while magic fireflies illuminated the scene.

After the third night Draco stopped counting. Charlie always dragged him out somewhere into the open and when Draco had asked he had answered that he missed the stars.

It felt like a dream but that’s the thing with dreams: Eventually you have to wake up.

 

________________________________________________

 

“I’m going to miss this.” Charlie said as he settled down next to Draco. Tonight they were on top of the London Eye again. “To close the circle” Charlie had said.

“When are you leaving?” Draco asked.

“Tomorrow.” Charlie lay down on his back: “It doesn’t feel like it has been four weeks.”

“No, more like four years.” Draco mocked him.

“What did I say about you and being funny?”

“To do it as often as possible?” Draco grinned when Charlie swatted at him but otherwise didn’t move.

“I think I got more fresh air in the last four weeks than in the past year.” Draco said: “Although I guess I saw less sunlight.”

“Moonlight suits you.” Charlie told him.

“A compliment? from you? I think I may faint.” Draco teased him. Charlie rolled his eyes at him and sat up again: “Seriously, what am I going to do when you’re gone?”

“I made you gave up your habit of daily drinking and fucking after four weeks? I’m impressed with myself.”

Draco shot him a dark look.

”Okay, I’m serious here.” Charlie tried again: “I go back to Romania and you pick up your life wherever you left it.”

“I left it in the war.”

“Then make a new life.”

"That’s easier said than done.”

“I did. I mean, sure, I had to move across Europe to do it but I did. Everyone walks down paths they wish they hadn’t. People can change, it’s just never easy.”

“What if I can’t? What if I end up in the place you found me again?”

“Honestly? I think it will kill you sooner or later.”

“What if I asked you to take me with you?” Draco looked into Charlie’s eyes and Charlie began to smile: “I would say that this is the entirely wrong time for both you and me to make that decision. I would ask you to wait a year and see if you still need me then.”

Charlie laid an arm around him. Kissed him. It was slow and lingering and bitter somehow. Draco had the fleeting thought that he didn’t want to be left, that he wanted to walk away first.

He got up, tried to muster a smile: “I’ll see you in a year then.”

“In a year.” Charlie agreed – and was alone.


End file.
